Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Ghana and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Siglo XX to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Danielle Patucci. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
Essential Logic,
Smog,
Deadbeat,
Infiniti,
Goldenarms,
Harmonia,
The Doors,
Johnny Clarke,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
T. Rex,
Aaron Thompson,
Darondo,
Aloha Tigers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Underground Resistance,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bobby Sherman,
Banda Bassotti,
The Toasters,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Marc Almond,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Count Five,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Spoonie Gee,
Soft Cell,
Lyres,
Sun City Girls,
Sound Behaviour,
Skriet,
Unwound,
Monks,
Lakeside,
Man Parrish,
The Leaves,
Agent Orange,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Smoke,
The Electric Prunes,
Josef K,
Supertramp,
the Germs,
Con Funk Shun,
Duran Duran,
Bootsy Collins,
Tommy Roe,
The Vogues,
Unrelated Segments,
Chris & Cosey,
The Stooges,
Dead Boys,
Rapeman,
Donny Hathaway,
Bill Wells,
Ohio Players,
Deepchord,
Eli Mardock,
DJ Sneak,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
A Certain Ratio,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.